


En Su Sombra

by Ladyanaconda



Series: Tears of Despair and Joy [16]
Category: Book of Life (2014)
Genre: Angst, Childhood, Childhood Memories, Childhood Sweethearts, F/M, Gen, Romance, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-24
Updated: 2015-11-24
Packaged: 2018-05-03 06:19:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,035
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5280002
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ladyanaconda/pseuds/Ladyanaconda
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Aimé has always lived under the shadow of her sister. She's always gotten in the way of what she wanted, and when a certain dark godling came into their lives, the feeling intensified as she did all in her power to call his attention, but once more La Muerte got in the way. One-shot featuring the love triangle between Aimé, La Muerte and Xibalba.</p>
            </blockquote>





	En Su Sombra

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, everyone, here’s a one shot that explores Aimé’s character a little more. How she used to be, how she became the recurring antagonist that we all hate so much (except in MHBTY; and I don’t really hate her, I feel pity for her.), and what she did afterwards.

Ever since she could remember, she had always been in her sister’s shadow.

Ever since they were little, La Muerte had always been the center of attention; always the most beautiful, the smartest, the kindest, everything. Aime was usually deemed by others as the spare in case that for any reason La Muerte wouldn’t be able to be crowned as Queen of the Land of the Remembered when the time came.

Sure, at first it didn’t bother Aimé. She thought it was natural, La Muerte being the first-born and all that, and La Muerte was a very loving, considerate big sister. The two were almost always together, Aimé would follow her sister everywhere she went and stick around her. Their father would treat his daughters equally, though at times he’d focus on training La Muerte on the responsibilities of ruling a kingdom for when she became queen as soon as she turned one hundred eighteen.

But then, she met Xibalba.

“Hey, Amy!” La Muerte had said excitedly one day, when they had come to Aztlan with their father for matters of diplomacy. She was accompanied by another godling. “There’s someone I’d like you to meet! This is Xibalba, he is my friend!”

It took Aimé a few minutes to process what her sister had said, all her attention was set on the dark godling named Xibalba. He looked like a black skeleton, with dark feathered and burnt wings, sharp claws concealed inside a pair of black gloves and red skulls for pupils in sickly green ectoplasm, white and small bushy eyebrows, and a long cloak that covered his legs. There was a small two-headed purple snake wrapped around his arm. Aimé’s little heart accelerated and she blushed. “H-Hola…” she whispered, stuttering.

“ _Hola_.” Xibalba simply said, a bit indifferently, though La Muerte did not notice.

“This is my little sister, Aimé.” La Muerte then introduced her sister to her friend.

“She’s pretty…” Xibalba said, blushing when La Muerte held his hand and led him a bit further away, to where the wild flowers were growing under the tree.

Aimé kept staring at him after he said those two words. No one had ever called her pretty before, those complimenting words always were meant for her sister. If he had called her that then it meant he must like her, didn’t he? But as she saw him under the tree with La Muerte making flower crowns and necklaces, he blushed wherever he and La Muerte brushed their hands accidently, or tried to shift as close to her as possible (without her noticing, however).

And time went by.

Ever since that first encounter, Aimé would often want to go to Aztlan when possible. She wanted to see Xibalba, be with him. But something was off. Whenever she saw him, the young godling would only ask her if she knew where La Muerte was, and left with either answer afterwards, not glancing back at her _once_. Xibalba was nice with her because she was his friend’s little sister, but frankly he was quite… freaked out by the way she looked at him. He didn’t know what it was, but he definitely didn’t like it.

Whenever he was with La Muerte it was different, however; Aimé didn’t notice it until much later, but Xibalba was always distant with her, but not with La Muerte. With La Muerte he was open, friendly and even sweet, he’d give often bring her flowers, visit her when he was ill and he’d even play things like tag, hide-and-seek, or even household with her. Xibalba didn’t care if others thought he was being girly by playing those games, as long as La Muerte was happy, so was he. He loved her smile.

Aimé slowly started to resent her sister for having all of Xibalba’s attention for herself. How could she call his attention so easily without any effort, while she tried endlessly for hours and Xibalba wouldn’t even look at her? La Muerte noticed her little sister started to grow distant, no matter how many times she tried to invite her to play tea just like they used to do, but Aimé had started to talk back, rebuffing her offers and running off angrily, but she couldn’t understand why she was mad at her. What had she done?

During their teen years, Xibalba started to grow the beginnings of a white moustache and beard that matched with his snowy white eyebrows, and though he had a strong-but still slim-build, he was not deemed very attractive by most of the young goddesses in the pantheon. Naturally, the other young males thought it wouldn’t be difficult to win La Muerte’s-currently the most beautiful young girl in the pantheon-affections. But she was already in love, long before she even knew it. The both of them. What started as a childhood friendship was flourishing. The elder ones knew it.

Aimé knew it.

She was losing the war, and she was no fool. She saw the way her sister and Xibalba looked at each other, even though they claimed they were ‘just friends’. Not only Xibalba was after her sister, but the rest of the young gods as well; as always, Aimé was only the spare with whom they would only get interested if La Muerte ever married. She learned from La Muerte a few things from Xibalba, though she didn’t go into much details, only saying he didn’t get along with his father, and she mentioned once he had an older brother, but nothing more. She claimed she didn’t have the right to be telling the four winds about Xibalba’s life, but Aimé was certain she didn’t want to give her the tools to win Xibalba’s heart.

Again, Aimé would try and call his attention one way or another. He was fourteen, La Muerte twelve, and she was nine. She’d dress provocatively (though in her case it was very hard since she was not yet developing her curves nor growing their breasts, thing which her sister was already experiencing), try to flirt with him and stay as close to him as possible, but her efforts went to waste every single time.

Sure, there were times when La Muerte returned home angry and muttering something about Xibalba being a ‘stubborn mule’, but all Aimé’s hopes that they had lost all affection for each other when he’d always apologize to her sister in the sweetest ways. In fact, the thing Xibalba lov- err, liked, about his childhood friend was her strength, her wit and how she always stayed firm in the decisions she took, whether anyone liked it or not.

Today, Xibalba and La Muerte were supposed to hang out together, but he came earlier than he had been told, either in purpose or accidentally. Aimé thought it was a good time to try and win his affection; she wore her most provocative dress, put on lots of make-up, brushed her hair, and then went down to meet her crush. There he was, pacing around the foyer of the castle, waiting for La Muerte to come down. His wings had grown strong and big, his moustache and bear seemed to grow inches longer with every day that passed, and his trusty snake staff held in one hand was only about a meter and half shorter than him, signaling the growth spurt of his ‘pet’.

“Hi, Xibalba.” She greeted, smiling excitedly.

“Oh, it’s you. _Hola_.” Xibalba simply said, leaning against the wall and glancing towards the stairs.

“Are you waiting for my sister?”

“Yes.”

“Well, it’s going to take a while. She takes very long in fixing herself, and her room is often a mess.” This, of course, was not true; La Muerte was punctual and practically obsessed with cleaning and order, but well, in love and war everything’s viable, right?

“ _Aja_.” Xibalba retorted, still not looking at her, but it was clear he did not swallow it.

“So…” Aimé was getting uncomfortably close to him, and he didn’t like the look on her face. “What have you been doing?”

“Nothing in particular.”

“I have had to bear my sister’s constant showing off about being the eldest and all that.”

“La Muerte doesn’t like showing off, she’s humble. Unlike other people I know, she doesn’t let power and position go to her head.”

“You should know about it, you have an older brother.” She failed to notice the dark god stiffening.

“I do.”

“Then you should know about it, having an elder sibling who does nothing but tease you and remind you of your inferiority-“

That was it. Xibalba flared out his wings and hissed at Aimé with sharp teeth, his eyes damp.

“For your information…” he growled with hostility. “My brother was the best sibling I could have ever asked for before he left.”

She had hit a sore nail. Before Aimé could say anything else, La Muerte was already making her way down the stairs, glancing at Xibalba with bright eyes. “ _Hola_ , Balby! Sorry if I took so long, I wasn’t sure what to wear.”

Xibalba managed to calm down as soon as he saw her, and smiled as he walked towards his friend. “Don’t worry. You’d look prettier in anything you wear.”

La Muerte blushed at the compliment. “Shall we go?”

“After you, _señorita_.”

As the two of them walked away, giggling and laughing all the way, Aimé just kept staring at them with a fire burning in her eyes. It was subtle, but strong. The young godling stormed off towards her room in a blur of marigold petals, cursing herself for messing it up. A few hours later, La Muerte returned from her ‘hanging out’ with Xibalba, but she was happier than usual, and very excited.

“Tlaloc’s water nymphs would never be compared with your smile, my dear daughter.” Sol said during dinner, upon noticing his eldest daughter’s jolly mood.

“I’m sorry, Father, it’s just that, well…” La Muerte was blushing the whole time.

“By the way, how did your… hanging out with the boy go…? His name is Xibalba, right?”

“Oh, yeah! We had lots of fun, but it started to rain. We had to go under the tree, and, well…” La Muerte was blushing deeply. “I was scared because it was a thunderstorm, Xibalba comforted me, and… Well, we…”

“You what?” Aimé inquired, though she was dreading the answer.

“We kissed!”

Those two words were like iron dagger piercing through Aimé’s heart. Her grip on her knife tightened, and her eyes were swelling up with tears, but her father was too busy speaking with her sister about the kiss. Sol didn’t like the idea of one of his babies kissing with a boy, but most people in Aztlan had seen the signs that La Muerte and Xibalba would eventually become a couple. They had been very close since childhood, after all.

Silently, Aimé slid off her chair and retired to her room without her father or sister noticing as La Muerte continued to tell her father what had happened between her and Xibalba.

And time went on, once again. Ever since that day, Xibalba and La Muerte started to constantly go out on dates together. They’d go to dinner in the Land of the Remembered, have picnics in the Land of the Living or go out on horseback together, activities Aimé found lowly and for peasants. They matured to adulthood before they knew, and their dates became more formal and serious.  The closer Xibalba and La Muerte became, the more desperate Aimé was, fearing that _it_ would happen.

Then one day, her worst nightmare came true.

It happened during a ball in Aztlan. Xibalba and La Muerte disappeared for an hour, and when they returned they gave an announcement: they were getting married! The meeting all was overwhelmed with cheers and laughter as the couple were congratulated by the rest of the pantheon, all but _one_. When she heard those horrible words she was horrified, heartbroken and angry. She had expected her father to oppose or something, but Sol embraced his eldest daughter and wished her to be happy with the man she loved. He didn’t like Xibalba, but if he was La Muerte’s happiness then he would not take it from her. Aimé, on the other hand, ran away into the wilderness and cried bitterly for her defeat.

But she wouldn’t give up so easily.

* * *

Aimé took advantage that La Muerte was having a bachelorette party to make her move. Xibalba would be all alone in his castle, checking a few things for the wedding. She avoided his servants, and went straight for his bedroom to wait for him. As always, she dressed in her most provocative dress and just stayed there, waiting. It wasn’t until late at night that Xibalba finally went to his room to call it a day, but was confused when he found it was pitch dark. Had Emilio blown out his lamps?

“ _Hola_ , Balby.”

A shiver ran down his spine when he heard that voice. It was so familiar, but he knew it was not his Muertita. La Muerte’s voice was sweet, kind and loving, this one was seductive and lustful. “Who is there?”

“Aww, don’t you recognize me?” Aimé stood up from his bed and approached him, swaying her hips seductively, approaching him. “We’ve always been together, don’t you remember?”

Xibalba stepped away from her. “What do you want?”

“Ay, Balby. I came to see you, can’t I spend some time with my future ‘brother-in-law’?”

He felt a shiver down his spine when he realized she was cornering him against the wall.

“I just want to spend some quality time with you…” when she was a few inches in front of him, Aimé slipped the thin suspenders of her dress off her shoulders and allowed her dress to fall to the ground, undressing completely except for her brassiere and panty. She had hoped that once he saw how much of a woman she was, he’d finally notice her.

But his reaction was the opposite of what she expected.

“WHAT THE HELL?!” Xibalba zipped away from her covering his sight from her body with his wings. “What are you thinking, Aimé?!”

“I just want you to taste me as a woman, Balby…” Aimé was grinning with lust as she approached him once more. “I can take you to Hell and Heaven if you’d let me-“ but when she tried to touch him he abruptly pushed her away, glaring daggers.

“I’m engaged to La Muerte!”

That triggered her temper. Aimé grew angry at the mention of her older sister. “La Muerte! LA MUERTE! IT’S ALWAYS ABOUT LA MUERTE!”

“What in tarnation is wrong with you, _mujer?_!

“Why can’t you understand I love you?!”

There was a wave of shock on Xibalba’s face momentarily, before it hardened into a glare of disbelief. “What in tarnation are you saying, Aimé?!”

“I’ve loved you ever since I first saw you! I did everything I could to get your attention, but I never existed for you while you loved my sister!”

Xibalba couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “For goodness sake! Why do you come to tell me this?!”

“I just want you to realize the kind of woman I am.” Aimé whispered, teleporting in front of him in a blur of marigold petals, again cornering him against the wall. Xibalba was frozen in surprise and shock, not reacting as Aimé ran a hand down his shoulder and the other slid a finger down his cheek. “If only you felt what I can make any man feel…” When the dark god finally snapped out of it he immediately grabbed her arms tightly to tear them away from him, again glaring at her with sharp teeth.

“Don’t you ever dare touch me like that again.” He hissed. “You want to show me what kind of woman you are? I can see it clearly. You’re an indecent tramp who offers herself to men without respecting a relationship. “ he pushed her away with a frown, the storm turning into an ice age. “I repeat to you, I am engaged to La Muerte. She’s a wonderful woman who doesn’t deserve that I betray her love and trust with her own sister.”

Aimé couldn’t believe what was happening. He rejected her, for her sister. _Again_. “But-!”

“I have said my last word!” Xibalba continued, snapping his fingers and throwing her clothes towards her telepathically. “Guards!”

Out of the nether appeared two beings of darkness, like tougher, larger and much more menacing versions of his servants who wore obsidian armor. They gave their master a respectful vow. “You summoned us, My Lord?”

“Please escort this…” Xibalba glanced at Aimé from head to toe with disdain, before turning his back on them. “…Lady outside, and do not allow her to come back.”

The head guard bowed once more. “As you wish, Majesty.”

Aimé’s eyes were glistening with tears of anger as she made her way out of the study, and down the hall, followed by the ethereal guards, gathering the pieces of her battered pride and her broken heart.

She cursed Xibalba for rejecting her love.

She cursed her father for never showing her the affection she deserved.

She cursed the other gods for never taking her into account.

But overall, she cursed La Muerte for always overshadowing her, for making her feel less, for robbing her of the love of her life.

The day of the wedding of her sister to Xibalba she tried everything she could think of to stop it from the shadows. But it Xibalba had apparently suspected she’d try to do so, for there were guards subtly posted in the ballroom, the kitchen and the ceremony, with orders to keep Aimé away from everything. She could only watch with growing anger as they joined their lives in marriage, culminating with a tender but passionate kiss. That night she wept alone in her room, not bearing to imagine La Muerte on bed with Xibalba, tasting his lips, feeling his touch, living what she should have lived.

That night, Aimé made a vow.

She’d have Xibalba for herself, no matter if she had to taint her hands with blood.


End file.
